A Promise of Vengeance

By Giacomo Giammatteo

The seven worlds of Neltsar are in turmoil. War has devastated the largest cities and killed millions of people. Now, one hundred of the strongest warriors—beings with incomprehensible power—have been banished to the Forsaken Lands. After wandering for one thousand years, they emerge onto a planet similar to medieval earth where no one has powers—or do they?

A Promise of Vengeance is the first of four books in the Rules of Vengeance series. Read it now and be hooked.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Giacomo Giammatteo
• Release date: Mar 13, 2018
• ISBN: 9781940313689

Giacomo Giammatteo

Giacomo Giammatteo lives in Texas, where he and his wife run an animal sanctuary and take care of 41 loving rescues. By day, he works as a headhunter in the medical device industry, and at night, he writes.

Book preview

Map of Known World—North

Map of North Forlandia

Memories

My name is Aentarra du Savarra. I don’t know who should tell this story—me or my father. Probably him. He fought the Darkness Wars. He started the Wars of Light. 

I cringed saying that. Technically, it should have been called the War of the Lights. I hate things to be wrong or out of place. Everything should have its proper position in life. But even nature makes stupid mistakes—puts five legs on a frog or something ridiculous. When I find things like that, I kill them. I couldn’t abide having five-legged frogs hopping around.

So anyway, yes, it should be father who tells this story, but father is dead, so I’ll have to tell it after all. 

Nobody remembers how things got started; in fact, nobody remembers anything before the time when my father and Lukaan were adults—that’s the first memory anyone has of them. Despite that, life was wonderful—until the dorgans came. They appeared from rifts—tears in the fabric of space. We fought against them in the Darkness Wars, a horrible time when millions of people died and all the worlds seemed in turmoil. 

We eventually won, and father and Lukaan became heroes. Afterward, the people established a new order. Each of the seven worlds designated a person to be their representative—a Light—and the seven of them formed the Council of Lights. My father held the High Seat. He was the Eternal Flame. The Light of Lights. 

He had many names, but after centuries, the name everyone feared the most was He Who Drank the Darkness. That name made people remember his power. When they remembered, they grew afraid. The few who weren’t afraid were jealous—especially Lukaan.

I shook my head to chase away the memories. I thought maybe if I shook hard enough, they would go away forever. They never did, though. Kept coming back. 

My father was a visionary, always preparing me for the future. The most important things he taught me were the rules of vengeance. As a little girl, I sat on his lap, and we practiced the lesson over and over.

Rules of Vengeance

When someone strikes you, what is your response? he asked me.

I remember sighing when he asked the question. It seemed like the thing to do. 

You should laugh. Laugh heartily, then walk away, I said.

And the next day, when the insult is fresh in your mind?

Seek them out. Embrace them. Befriend them. I looked to him to see if it was right.

A smile lit his face. And after your heart cools?

Disable them. Make them suffer. Destroy them.

He smiled and held me tightly. I remember the warmth of his hug, the pride in his voice. You have learned well, my daughter.

---

Now you know how things started, but the worst was when—

I looked around, thought I heard something. A rift opening? While I searched, thoughts popped into my head. 

Perhaps I shouldn’t say so much. Perhaps I should let you find out on your own.

Sethian Plots

Sethian Desert

1364 AE (After Exile)

First Cycle of the Second Moon

Third Calendar of Light

Lukaan sought the most remote corner of Sethia, a spot where the shield might be more vulnerable, though he had yet to discover a weak spot or even a hint of how the shield got its strength.

Just like Antar's manor, he thought, stirring memories from the deepest recesses of his mind.

Memories of Antar, his trusted friend—later, his most bitter foe. Memories of the Darkness Wars, when he and Antar basked in the glory of victory—when the seven worlds of Nelstar worshiped and idolized them. Memories of the power that infused his soul whenever he used the Sacred Book. The ecstasy . . .

How good it would feel to be a god again.

Sethian Desert

Hot, pitiless winds tore granules of sand from the parched earth, and a death-black cloak whipped about his frame, slapping the loose ends against his calves. Lukaan raised his hands to the winds and invoked a mystic call—the winds stilled.

He unleashed a barrage of forces that once razed cities and flattened mountains. Lightning shot from a clear sky, and BlackFire erupted from his hands. Steaming fissures gouged wounds in the ground, spewing fire and rock while a tempest of winds hurled brush and trees. Finally, the earth itself raised and crashed against the impregnable barrier—all to no avail.

Snow sat on the mountains in the distance, smiling at him, taunting. Freedom so close, yet untouchable.

snow in mountains

The air rippled, and the ground throbbed. He took a moment to calm himself, then Shifted to the Sethian Palace.

Lukaan's chamber grew cold, dampened with the eerie mist that haunted the palace. It oozed across the marble floor, writhed up the steps, and slunk around his boots.

He remembered a time when he had ruled, when he was worshiped, when he was not imprisoned in this forsaken land of Sethia. Once again, the sounds of steel-against-steel rang in his ears, and the feel of mind-against-mind sang to his heart.

He shuddered at the thought of freedom. It had been so long, so very long. But he would—

The prickling sensation of power interrupted his thoughts.

Melissara entered, bowing low. You summoned me, Lord?

Her words rode on a confident wave. She was one of the few who could look upon his countenance for more than a few heartbeats. But she knew that the smart dog did not show the master all its teeth, so her head remained bowed.

An aura surrounded Lukaan now, a dark, forbidding presence that threatened prying eyes.

I can still sense the boy, Melissara. Why do we not have him?

Images of death stole into her thoughts. Dared her to answer wrong. It is my error, Lord. Perhaps I should have—

I know who is to blame. Inform the Victa commander that Twin Forks is to be destroyed. If the boy survives, bring him to me.

With her head still bowed, hair dusting the floor, Melissara backed across the cold marble. Yes, Lord. I will see it is done.

The eerie mist climbed up Lukaan's legs, caressed him. Soon the mortals will pay the price for siding with Mikkellana. Soon, they will all pay.

Hunted

925 A.F. (After Founding)

Second Cycle of the Second Moon—Reunion

The mug of ale brushed Rhaven's lips, though he took no sip. The brew was fresh—fresher than the air in the tavern—but he would need his wits about him this night. Four men at the corner table had watched him all through the meal; he felt sure they had come to kill him—or to try.

Out of habit, he reached to scratch the bottom of his right ear, most of it missing thanks to a group who had come for him years ago. Despite the time that had passed, odd sensations continued to bother him—tingling, itching, and an occasional twinge of pain.

A gentle push moved his plate to the center of the table. He closed both hands around the mug and set it close to him. His elbows brushed a dark cloak aside as he cast casual glances about the tavern. Bits of conversations bounced around the room, and stale smoke from pipe tobacco clung to candlelight and clustered in corner pockets.

tavern

The serving girl stared at his still-full mug, a scowl on her face like she'd just lost a copper. Somethin' wrong with the ale?

The ale is fine. Leave me to my meal and come back when I call.

Before long, two of the men headed toward the door. They kept their eyes focused ahead of them, not looking in Rhaven's direction. The third man pushed his chair back, catching it on an upturned floor plank. Rhaven suspected the last man would wait to follow when he left. He wondered once again what they wanted him for.

He sat for a few more moments, long enough to make them anxious, then called for the serving girl, paid her, and left. They will probably be waiting in the alley by the butcher's shop, where it’s dark and cramped.

A brisk pace carried Rhaven along the cobblestone streets, dusty from the day's business and the lack of rain. The last of the four men followed him out of the inn, though the man kept a good distance between them. Rhaven breathed the thick air, the scent of a coming rain lingering.

The butcher's shop lie around the next bend. Rhaven's hands twitched; it had been a while since he'd killed a man.

He rounded the corner. Two of them hid in the shadows. The other must be in the alley.

cobblestone street in alley

It was a typical maneuver for an ambush—two would approach from the front, one in the alley from the right side, and the one following him from behind. When they closed to about six paces, the two in front reached for their swords. Rhaven drew a knife from a strap inside his cloak and threw it, striking one of them in the chest.

The man gasped, staggering back as he fumbled to remove the blade. Rhaven rushed forward to keep them off balance. They would have expected him to retreat, or at the least, to stop and fight. They wouldn't anticipate a charge. The second man had his sword half-drawn when Rhaven's sai pierced his throat, blood gurgling out like a gutted deer.

One man was dead and one injured, but Rhaven wasted no time. He continued his charge, dispatched the man still struggling with the knife in his chest, then spun to face the one from the alley on his right. The man attacked, swinging his blade with a great deal of vigor and inexperience. The sai in Rhaven's left hand caught the blade and twisted, snatching the sword from his hand. Before the man could retreat, the other sai found a channel between his ribs and into his heart.

The fourth man arrived just as the third one fell. He turned to escape. Rhaven drew a knife from his boot sheath and threw it, catching the man on the back of the leg, a hamstring shot. A scream pierced the night as the man collapsed to the pavement, then crawled to the wall and propped himself up.

Rhaven approached. Why did you try to kill me?

The reward. But we wouldn't have killed you if we could have taken you alive.

You should pay more for your information. A few extra coppers might have saved your life.

The man's eyes sparkled. Is it money? I can get you gold.

I'm no longer wanted, that's what I meant about the coppers. Rhaven slid a sai into the man's lungs. Die slowly, friend.

He cleaned both sai then sheathed them, his black cloak swirling as he walked down the street.

---

Three horses charged past Rhaven, their hooves pounding against the stone, raising a raucous clamor. Two riders dismounted and rushed toward the tavern. The last one stayed with the horses. Rhaven's long strides soon had him standing beside the man.

Have you heard, stranger? Victas in Kamnor, heading toward Twin Forks!

Rhaven's heart skipped a beat or two. For a moment he stood there, rigid as a tree stump, mute as a rock.

Victas! The man repeated himself. We just came from Sykor and got the report from a guard post.

Time to leave Barclaen, Rhaven said.

A puzzled look came over the rider's face. No need, mister. They'll never get here.

I know, Rhaven said, then went to get his mount.

He entered the stable and tossed a coin to the boy, half-asleep by the first stall. Get up, boy, I need my horse.

The stable smelled cleaner than most; in fact, straw proved the dominant odor. The boy took good care of things.

The boy bounced to his feet and stammered out a reply. Sorry, sir, I wasn't . . . I mean I didn't—

Nothing wrong with sleeping, Rhaven said. Get my mount ready fast and you might earn an extra copper.

Hay stuck to the boy's clothes and lay in his hair, but he didn't take time to brush it out. I'll get him right now, sir. He raced toward the stall that held Argus.

The boy's hands worked like a rat chewing rope. He unlatched the stall door, moved the bucket out of the way, grabbed the reins, and led the horse into the main area of the barn.

Did he give you any trouble? That horse can be stubborn.

He wouldn't let me do nothin' but feed him. I tried to brush him and thought he'd have my arm for supper. If I'd been in there behind him . . .

You must be good for him to let you get that close. He doesn't like many people. Rhaven grabbed the blanket and saddle then walked him out of the barn, the eager stablehand trailing him like a day-old duckling.

Anything I can get for you, sir?

Rhaven seated himself, then tossed a silver coin to the boy. Careful where you spend this and don't let anyone take it from you. With that, he clicked on the reins and tapped his heels. Let's go, Argus. We head to Kamnor.

Pednor's Grove

925 A.F. (After Founding)

Second Cycle of the Second Moon—Reunion

The morning sun heated the air and whisked the scent of humans up into the pass, a redolent trace of pines and mountain laurels riding along with it. Bokk savored it with a rapid flick of his tongue; it had been a long time since he had feasted on human flesh.

He removed the ax from his belt and crept behind a rock on the far side of the pass, green scales brushing the ground like a rasp scraping splintered oak. Black, beady eyes as keen as a hawk's scanned the streets and the town square.

Bokk made note of the men with swords and the women returning from the fruit vendor with children in tow. Two dogs also caught his eye, both of them at the far side of town; they would not spoil the approach.

Bokk ducked his head when three men exited the inn. Pednor's Grove counted a small population of retired Sykoran Guards, and even though the sharpest-eyed scout would find it difficult to see Bokk from this distance, he would not risk alerting the village. He had learned well his father's teachings of caution and wisdom and how they shared the same den.

Brood Leader Trull slithered alongside Bokk, a sibilant whisper on his lips. How many Sykorans?

The scout's tongue flicked with each of his slow heartbeats. Thirty to forty at most, but I count no more than seven with swords. If we take the back trail and keep to the woods, they will have no warning.

Trull nodded as he straightened his battle ax then made his way back to the patrol leaders. Move. But slowly. Quietly.

The patrol leader stared down at the little ones playing in the square. He winced before asking the question. And the children?

The brood leader's black eyes bore into him. Leave no one alive.

Bokk joined Trull as they made their way toward the village. This won't take long.

Not long at all, Trull said, then called to Kron. Scout ahead at the next two villages—Treaschwig and Twin Forks. We will finish here before dusk, and I intend to march into the night. His claws scraped the edge of his ax as he spoke. And take Jorr with you. Teach him well.

---

Later that evening, Brood Leader Trull marched the Victa army through Pednor's Grove, through the smoke and smoldering flames and stench of death. Dread filled his bones and clung to every scale. The Master had been explicit. Everyone in Twin Forks must die.

Twin Forks

925 A.F. (After Founding)

Second Cycle of the Second Moon—Reunion

Abreath of cold air fresh from the long winter's romp rolled into the valley. Rahg's face chafed from the sting, but he held steady the aim, sighting down the shaft of his arrow at the target twenty paces ahead. Crisp air charged his lungs, and the muscles in his forearm twitched.

He blew a nagging lock of brown hair from his eyes, then let the arrow fly toward the old tree stump. Rahg's taunting began while the shaft still shook from the strike. That's almost dead center—less than two fingers away—you can't win.

Don't spend that money yet. You left me a clean shot. Lanky legs carried Darstan toward the target, where his black boots dusted the line scratched in the dirt. All the while, his eyes remained fixed on the target. Rahg had made a good shot, and it would take a near perfect one to get inside it. Darstan focused on the center circle until nothing else existed—like a single star in a crowded summer sky. He slowly drew the bowstring and released it with one fluid motion; there would be no wobble on this shaft.

Darstan's laughter drowned the thud of the arrow as it struck near center. Two copper dirnars, Rahg.

By all the gods, you're lucky. You'd never make that shot again.

Maybe not, but I don't need to. Just pay what you owe.

Next time—

Next time will be the same. You won't beat me until you listen to Kor Trasken. Darstan's voice was naturally as deep as a well, but he lowered it even more and slipped into his best imitation of Kor. Hold your aim too long and, you’ll never hit the mark. You must be quick, Rahgnar. Quick!

Laughter still had hold of both of them when they succumbed to the lure of a towering emerald and plopped down by its trunk to enjoy the morning.

Great day, Darstan said, and stretched out on new shoots of grass.

We should be watching the sheep.

sheep grazing

Where we should be is fishing with Eru and Tomas. If you had done your chores, we could be.

Yeah, yeah. Did you see that both moons were full last night? They say the fish bite best during a Reunion.

Darstan grabbed a twig to chew. Sounds like Tobias talking. He's always telling tales about Ranal and Ranalla. He once told me if I walked with a girl during a Reunion, she'd be sure to kiss me.

Well?

I guess you'll have to wait until a Reunion to find out—or until you get a girl. Darstan laughed to himself. Poor little brother hadn't even had his first kiss yet. And don't start dreaming about Kanella again. We have sheep to tend.

Blasted sheep can watch themselves, Rahg said, and leaned against the tree to sulk. And to dream about Kanella.

Acolumn of emeralds looked down upon the crowns of spruce, pine, hickory, and even firs, all sprouting from roots planted deep in the hillside. Across the lush green valley, another pair of eyes watched both the sheep and the boys. Amber eyes haunted a mask of thick, gray fur as it stalked the sheep nearest the edge of the woods. A guttural growl rumbled in its throat and a long tongue licked sanguinary lips. Play while you can, boys.

sheep near woods

The bleat of a small ewe focused the creature’s attention on the prey. This ewe would feed many pups. The hunter pounced as the sheep approached the woods. Death was nearly instant, but the ewe managed to sound an alarm before giving way. The rest of the flock cried out and ran toward the village, the clamor bringing Darstan and Rahg to their feet.

T he sheep! Darstan jumped to his feet, nearly tumbling down the hill as he ran, leaping over rocks and gnarled roots of old oaks and grabbing for the ridged bark of small pines to break his descent. Rahg trailed by only a heartbeat.

The bottom of the incline folded into gentle flat ground, and Darstan dashed across the valley floor, crushing new shoots of grass—standing tall like little green soldiers—with each stride.

Right behind you, Dar!

Darstan and Rahg both nocked an arrow and let them fly, but the creature bounded into the woods. They raced to the grove where the animals huddled.

Did you see it, Darstan?

Darstan brushed calming hands over each of the sheep. How many are gone?

sheep huddled for protection

Rahg did a quick count. Just one. Did you see what it was?

Calm down, Rahg, you sound like the sheep. It was a wolf, that's all. Darstan began to gather the frightened flock. I'll get the sheep. You fetch the arrows. No sense in wasting good arrows.

Rahg shook his head, mumbling. Wasn't any wolf. I know that. His eyes flickered from shadow to shadow as he approached the woods. Whatever got that ewe would not catch him unaware. He nocked another arrow and held his bow ready—wolf, or whatever it was—he was taking no chances.

Hurry up, Rahg. We need to get back.

I've got ’em. He sounds more like father every day. Rahg gathered the arrows, then backed away from the woods, alert for trouble.

Conversation came infrequently on the walk home, and what little did occur consisted of Rahg speculating on the punishment they would receive. He's going to be angry, Dar.

I’ll tell him. No sense in both of us taking the blame.

---

Magmar's hand crashed on the table in the kitchen. I thought you two were expert bowmen.

Rahg let silence cover him. He knew when not to talk, and he didn't dare tell Magmar that he thought it wasn't a wolf. Wouldn't believe me anyway.

It's my fault, Darstan said. I—

Nonsense! The blame's on both of you. Now get ready for supper.

While Rahg finished preparing supper, Darstan set plates on the bare wooden table, guilt and remorse evident on his face. It was no wonder Magmar was upset; he had the burden of raising Rahg and Darstan as well as tending the farm. And we can't even watch the sheep , Darstan thought, then looked about the house.

The absence of a mother showed. There were no decorations on the windows, no flowers in the sills, and the boys had socks that needed mending and britches waiting for needle and thread. But despite all that, Darstan had the blessings of fortune. Magmar had taken him in when no one else would have him, and Rahg had proved to be as good a friend as a brother.

The harsh sound of Magmar's boots on the porch alerted Darstan. Better hurry, Rahg.

The supper table was quiet, save for the hushed sounds of food being eaten, when Magmar broke the silence. I was about your age, Darstan, when I nearly lost a whole flock of my father's sheep. Was over a girl in the village who was passing by and—

Darstan laughed. Sorry to interrupt, but if Rahg hadn't been daydreaming of Kanella, we might have seen that wolf.

wolf

What's done is done, Magmar said.

I wonder why the wolves are coming in so close, Darstan said. That's the third attack this spring. Zedd Corin lost a lamb, and wolves got a ewe from Fenn Parker.

Magmar shook his head and his brow wrinkled. Strange.

Darstan stared at the weather-beaten skin on his father's face. He's worried about something, but not wolves.

Rahg had nightmares about the wolf all night, causing him to sleep late. Darstan and Magmar were already eating when he got to the table.

About time you got up, Rahg, we have a lot of chores to do.

Rahg poked his head out the door to check on the weather. Must have gotten cold last night, there's frost on the ground.

I said we have chores to do, Rahg.

I'll do mine tomorrow. Meet me later, Dar, but don’t tell father about the chores.

Rahg ran to his favorite spot. He grabbed a root to chew, then lay on his back and rested his head against the trunk of a towering emerald. No tree was bigger, save a blackthorn, and none held more beauty. The leaves shined like real emeralds, yet they were small and soft as cotton—almost as if they didn't belong to a giant like this. And the leaves stayed with it during the harshest winters. He reached out to scratch a piece of bark, white as lamb's fur and smooth as polished hickory. The bark smelled fresh, and it tasted tangy. He shivered when he took a bite.

He pushed himself farther up the trunk and stared into the mountains surrounding the valley. Heavy snow wrapped the shoulders of the highest peaks, like a shawl tucked around a grandmother's neck. Beyond that, in the Great Whites, blizzards raged at the summits.

It was said that nothing lived there save rock dragons. People always talked about them, repeating tales heard from bards or men with too much ale, but Rahg had never met anyone who had seen one, unless he counted old Tobias, who claimed to have fought one when he was with the Sykoran Guard.

---

They were chasing bandits, or so Tobias had said, and followed their trail past the northern edge of Kamnor to the foothills of the Whites.

Rahg smiled. He had heard the story so much he knew it word for word. He could picture Tobias sitting at Havril's Inn, sipping ale and telling his story. He'd been telling that story for so long it was like a legend. He would likely be at the inn tonight, cornering strangers or anyone who had heard it less than a dozen times. Rahg could almost hear him now.

I’ll tell you it was a frightful experience.

Tobias never failed to begin the story with those exact words and the same tone of voice. At this point he also wiped his brow and took a long swig of ale before continuing—as though he had just returned a short bit ago, exhaustion still with him.

"Frightful! We followed the bandits up from the Free Lands, ridin' hard. For nearly three days we drove those horses with barely no rest. They were tired. Spent. Fact is, old Erad's horse gave-out. Just plain lay down and died. We were close to Twin Forks, so Erad came here while we tracked the bandits. Followed 'em all the way to the Whites, then the tracks got real confusing.

foothills of Great White Mountains

We found two horses dead, with other tracks that went off in all directions. The dead ones were part eaten. The tracks were all muddled and didn't make any sense. Must've been wolves, we figured, so we decided to split-up—me and three others going west, and Tadge and his four east. All of a sudden we hear this sound, like . . . like a . . . well, it was so unusual I still don't know how to describe it, but it was a terrible sound.

Rahg laughed. As often as Tobias told that story, he still left that part in. Told it the same way every time. I'd think after so many years he'd know just how to describe it.

Bad as that was, what came out of the mountains was worse. A giant of a creature jumped down on us from the rocks. Was half a span, head to tail, and must've weighed fifteen or twenty stone. It had gray scales all over, covering up brownish-gray skin. Now, if that wasn't enough to scare the demons out of us, the teeth were. Had a whole mouthful of 'em, like blades on a dagger. And eyes the same color as the blood drippin' off them teeth. It was a beast. Sort of half-lizard and half somethin' else—dragon, I guess.

Tobias always stopped to take several long swallows of ale right after describing the rock dragon. He wanted it to sink-in, Rahg presumed. Then he'd place both his hands on the edge of the table and lean over it, his positioning and grim expression prepping the listeners for the rest of the tale.

It hit Tadge first.

He never failed to whisper that part, Rahg remembered, and his ploy always worked. Tobias had their undivided attention.

"Took him and Amos out before we even got our horses turned around, with them so frightened and all. I ordered the men to dismount so we could get up on the ledge—at least there we didn't have to fight the horses and that creature too. We put about six arrows into the thing but not before it got Tadge's other two men. Then it turned and came toward us.

"Only had time to hit it with one arrow apiece before it got to the rock. It started up that ledge like walkin' on flat ground—big, sharp claws finding the tiniest cracks to grab hold of. It was almost on us when Karrs put his sword right in the creature's eye. It howled so loud I nearly fell off the ledge, but I grabbed my sword with both hands and plunged hard as I could, right into its skull. That one did him in. His claws loosed-up and his head reared-back, then he fell all the way down, landin' on sharp rocks below.

We picked up what was left of the bodies and gave ’em a good burial before comin' back to the village. It took me three to four days of solid drinkin' before I could make myself think straight again. That's when I decided I'd had enough of the soldierin' and settled down right here in Twin Forks.

Rahg smiled again. He didn't know whether rock dragons really did exist, but just in case, he’d be sure to stay clear of the Great Whites, though he did wonder what lay on the other side.

Rahg looked to where the sun sat over the mountains and realized it was almost time to meet Darstan. He should be done with the chores by now, Rahg thought, and quickened his pace toward the village. He was just coming to the bend in Buckhorn Trail when he heard the greeting.

Hooo, Rahg.

Rahg ran the rest of the way to the crossing by Havril's Inn. He hopped from one rock to another, taking four stops to get across the creek, though he almost slipped on one of the rocks. The stream gurgled and splashed over stones as it made its way south to the White River. Spring thaw had not come to the mountains yet; in another month it would be too deep to cross. Finally finished with those chores?

And lucky to be done so soon. Father worked the sweat out of me.

They made the turn toward Havril's and saw Tomas heading their way, a fishing pole resting on his shoulder. It's a wonder he hasn't worn a spot in his shirts, Rahg thought. Didn't you catch enough yesterday?

Didn't catch any, Tomas said, That's why I'm going back. Get your poles and come along.

The invitation proved enticing, but they had already planned the day. We're going to the inn, Rahg said, but if you catch any, bring some to us.

---

Boredom soon had them wishing they accepted Tomas's invitation; the day had proved a big disappointment. They heard a few stories from Sykoran traders as they haggled over goods, and Eru's dog, Jumper, bit Havril, providing some excitement, but nothing of consequence—no tales from the great cities, no swordplay, not even anyone caught picking a purse.

Rahg tossed another stick to Jumper, trying to keep him busy lest he bite someone else. We've wasted half the day, Darstan, and there's nothing to do. He grabbed the stick from Jumper's mouth; the dog proved to be persistent if nothing else. Rahg had his arm cocked back to throw the stick when he heard someone calling.

Darstan, Rahg, have you heard the news?

Eru rushed toward them, dodging a merchant's cart. His sentences fell short as he fought to catch breath. A traveler from Sykor. Here, in Twin Forks. Mother saw him at the market and said he'd be at Havril's tonight. She thinks the news is bad 'cause he wouldn't say anything until he gets to Havril's.

We'll be there. Rahg rushed the words out then turned to Darstan. Let's go. We'll get supper and hurry back. We'll want a good seat, so we have to be early.

Darstan jumped to his feet and raced toward home. See you tonight, Eru.

Apair of Victa scouts crouched behind the thick brush guarding the perimeter of the town, black beady eyes taking count of each villager. Their green scales served as camouflage with the new foliage, and except for the bloodstained lips, they appeared a part of the forest itself. This one will fall easily, the young Victa warrior hissed, unable to contain his excitement.

They will all fall easily, Kron said. The small villages first, but once the Master is free, even Sykor and Khatara will crumble.

Kron's thick tongue licked scaly lips. Come, Jorr, they await our report. Kron moved slowly, careful not to snap twigs or rustle leaves. Step lightly, Jorr; it would not do to alert the villagers before we attack.

The Traveler's Tale

Rahg and Darstan raced up the steps to Havril's Inn, worried about getting a good seat. Darstan hit the landing first and shoved the door open. Half the tables are full. Eru must have told everyone.

Darstan stood just inside the door and scanned the inn. Benches and tables crowded a big rectangular room and sat atop old oak planks held fast with iron nails. A fat candle adorned each table, and the chairs, if not easy to sit on, were sturdy and level. A huge fieldstone fireplace as big as a peddler's wagon sat near the center of the room on the outside wall. It had a hearth that could seat the whole Nester family—all eight of them.

Darstan tugged on Rahg's sleeve and pointed to a man near the center of the room. That must be him.

The traveler stood taller than Kor Trasken by half a hand, but he was beanstalk-thin and had a long, twisted nose that hooked down toward his mouth. A dusty-brown cloak and haggard gray britches did nothing to reveal his occupation.

Doesn't look like any bard I've seen, Rahg said.

Eru never said he was a bard, Rahg; you're the one that thought that up. Looks more like a soldier to me. Darstan grabbed Rahg's sleeve and dragged him toward an open table. C'mon, these seats won't last long.

Ella Havril and her younger sister, Kora, were charged with serving the ale while Ella's mother and four other girls served the food. Ella dodged old Blake Carter, already with too much ale in him and stumbling around like a cow with the fever. Then she adeptly spun to the side while holding four mugs of ale in each hand.

Look at that, she didn't spill a drop.

Never does, Darstan said.

Ella was serving the table next to them when she called out to Darstan, her soft voice somehow piercing the ruckus from the boisterous patrons surrounding her. Will it be the usual tonight?

Darstan flashed a smile. We're here for the duration, Ella. Everyone from here to Herschwig knows about the traveler.

Ella took a deep breath. She had already stared too long at Darstan, and if she didn't leave soon, she risked the sting of gossip.

I like your dress, Ella. Is that a new one?

Ella's younger sister, Kora, stopped on her way to the kitchen. Don't get too flustered, sister. You might fall over.

Ella delivered a warning kick to Kora's leg, then turned and smiled at Darstan and Rahg. I'll be right back with your drinks.

Ella grabbed Kora's sleeve and tugged her along. Kora! He might have heard you. You'd better not do anything like that again.

When they reached the kitchen, Kora stood for a moment, ogling Darstan. He's the catch for you, Ella. Mercy's grace, but he's handsome!

Ella wrapped her hands around two mugs of ale and turned to leave, her cheeks as red as Kairen's roses. Who? she asked, feigning innocence.

Who? Kora laughed and an exaggerated sigh ushered in her words. He's got eyes the color of almonds, and hair as black as night, and his—

Shut-up, Kora, or I promise, I'll—

Ella! Set those mugs down before you drop them. Mrs. Havril stood with her arms folded in front of her. As for you, Kora, if I must tell you one more time about a girl's privacy . . . What's said in this family stays here! The look in her eyes demanded a response.

Yes, Mother, Kora said, then turned to her sister. I'm sorry, Ella. I was just teasing.

Mrs. Havril unfolded her arms, nodding all the while. All right. That's how sisters should act. She wrapped both arms around her girls, then leaned in to hug them. Now tell me who's so handsome that my girls can't serve drinks.

Either one of those Fal-Thera boys. They're both good looking, but Darstan is enough to make me weep. Kora sighed as she peeked through the door to get another glimpse of him.

Mrs. Havril cuffed the back of Kora's head. I have a notion that a girl as young as you shouldn't be so free with her talk.

The scowl on her face became a snicker, then laughter. She hustled Kora out of the way and peered through the door at Rahg and Darstan. I say Rahg is the one to go after. A girl would spend all her life chasin' other women away from Darstan. Be like tryin' to keep bees from the honey; leastwise, till he gets old and fat.

Ella chuckled. All men get old, mother, but not all of them get fat. Look at Kor Trasken.

He's different, daughter. He's a soldier. Besides, most men do. And no sense riskin' heartaches over a man like that. Just set your mind to findin' a good, hardworkin' soul. That'd be what you want. Someone to put food on your table and a fire in your hearth. You don't want a man to be buildin' a fire in someone else's hearth. Mrs. Havril rustled Kora's hair. That flashy smile won't make you happy, dear, but it just might break your heart.

Oh mother! Ella said, then exited the swinging doors with a smile on her lips and several ales in each hand. She negotiated through the narrow paths separating the tables, then almost bumped into Magmar and Tobias. Excuse me, Mr. Fal-Thera, Mr. Marek. It's crowded tonight.

I can see that, lass, Tobias said. Where's Rahg?

Just past the center of the room. He and Darstan have a good table.

Tobias chuckled as Ella squeezed by them. You know, Magmar, she's got the prettiest blue eyes I've seen since your Marna was alive. She's a bright lass too.

Magmar nodded, then laughed. Tobias, trying to pay attention to everything you say is like trying to count raindrops.

Rahg scanned the inn, spying Magmar. The room held about eighty people, all in various stages of sitting, rising, or shuffling their way to and from the privies out back.

Darstan stood to wave them over. Blast it, Rahg, Tobias is with him.

Rahg let his mug set heavy on the table. We'll be lucky to even hear what the man has to say.

Magmar crossed the room, stopping to greet friends and neighbors, and continually nodding in response to Tobias's incessant chatter. When they reached the table, Magmar sat on Rahg's left, leaving the only available seat for Tobias next to Darstan. Rahg smiled and poked Darstan under the table. He received a hard left jab to his arm as reward.

Has the ale gotten the better of you lads already? Why, I could tell you some stories about ale and what it does to lads and men alike.

The traveler is ready to speak, Magmar said. Let's listen.

I believe I know him, Tobias said, squinting while he searched for a striker to light his pipe. I do know him. It's Beryl.

Havril rang the large bell hanging from the rafters near the kitchen. Everyone knew the signal, and the room soon settled down.

Thank the gods, Rahg thought as the traveler began to speak. Rahg’s imagination had prepared him for a smooth flowing tale, a colorful picture painted by an artist of the language, but the man spoke in short, terse statements, facts, and details. A scout in the Sykoran patrol had more spark in his report than this man.

As I said . . .

The traveler's drab, lusterless voice made it difficult to concentrate.

There are reports from all patrols. Victas are rousing. They've been spotted far outside their territory, and the Nyaurans reported Wolfen in their lands. You need to make preparations in case they come here, though I doubt they would; Twin Forks is far off the main trade routes.

The air in Havril's stilled, then people shouted the inevitable questions from every table.

Victas! I thought they were long dead.

Nobody's even seen a Victa unless you count Tobias's old tales.

Beryl spoke at the first break in the clamor. Just because you haven't seen one doesn't mean they don't exist. The people in Genda have likely never seen a bear.

What are they doing out of Sethia? someone shouted.

Why would they come here?

We can handle the Victas, Pieter said, though his voice rang with the sound of too many ales.

Tobias pushed his chair back and stood, pipe in hand. Stop your screeching! The whole bunch of ya sound like Netter's old hen. As for you, Pieter, I'd wager if a Victa walked through that door he wouldn't need a weapon to send the whole pack of ya scurrying home. It's a lot different fightin' Victas than it is men. Puts the fear of the demon in you. Tobias puffed repeatedly on his pipe, the smoke bursting out in great clouds. Let Beryl finish what he's got to say.

None of the men dared speak for fear of embarrassment, but Havril's wife held no reservations. Tobias Marek, are you to tell us these tales of Victas and Wolfen and such are true?

Tobias lowered his head and shook it slowly. He set his pipe on the table and stared around the room. His blue eyes had gone cold and the wrinkles on his face hardened. "You all know me. Some think I'm good only for tellin' tales. Others think I'm slower than a possum with a sack full of babies. But I'll not paint a dark sky blue, not at a time like this. Truth is, if the Victas are out it can only mean trouble. The Wolfen make it worse. But we can deal with Victas and Wolfen. What worries me is why are they coming? Why now? Does this mean the Banished Ones have found a way out? If so, then we're in real trouble."

The mention of the Banished Ones stopped all talking. Two or three people got up and left. Tobias stared at them, puffing on his pipe until someone mustered the courage to speak.

What about Mikkellana and the good immortals? What about Aentarra?

I don't know about Mikkellana, Tobias said. And as to some of them being good, well . . . there's not much to support that. When two wolves fight over the same ewe, it makes little difference to the ewe which wolf wins.

He picked up his pipe and tapped it once, then rekindled the fire. As to Aentarra, I'd sooner eat a toad than meet her on the street. That one makes a serpent seem as sweet as peach pudding.

What's wrong with Aentarra? someone yelled.

Tobias thought for a moment, then addressed the question. Guess that depends. The stories say if you greet her on the street she might kiss you or she might kill you. At that, they all stayed quiet.

With that break, Beryl continued with his report. I've seen tracks of a small Victa party not five leagues from where we sit, though it was across the border in Nyauran territory. Could have been hunters, but I doubt it. There . . . Beryl paused, as if he didn't want to finish, but when he received a nod from Tobias he continued. There was a rock dragon with them.

Dead silence followed the crowd's gasp. Rahg's stomach burned with pangs of dread. An image of the rock dragons flared in Rahg's mind, brought to life by Tobias’s stories. He could picture their teeth—like daggers—and the scales dripping blood. Gods be dead, Darstan. Rock dragons!

Darstan nodded.

The crowd peppered Beryl with endless questions, while other voices offered a range of solutions. Amid it all, they somehow agreed to meet at Magmar's house later that evening.

After several more rounds of questions, Magmar suggested they leave. Let's go, lads. It's late and we'll have to finish the chores before everyone comes to the house. Magmar headed toward the door.

Rahg grabbed Darstan by the arm. I was planning on asking Kanella's father if I could call on her.

Before Darstan could say anything, Tobias came up beside them. Don't mean to take the snap out of your day, lad, but we've got a meeting to hold tonight. There's no time to dally. Put yourself together and get going. We'll be at your father's house after supper to discuss things.

Kor Trasken walked through the kitchen and into the parlor. He plopped on the seat at the end of the sofa, across from the fireplace. Ben Corin and Jed Nester plopped down next to him.

Darstan helped Magmar bring in a few more chairs, struggling to fit them in and still leave space to walk. The room could comfortably accommodate eight—twelve with extra chairs, but today twenty-one were packed inside.

Darstan had found enough seats for the older men, with one exception—Tobias sat on the flush-hearth, his chin resting on drawn-up knees. Darstan elbowed Rahg and whispered. Tobias looks like a lad of twelve.

Brought out of his state of euphoria, Rahg glanced over, then chuckled as Ben's father offered his seat on the bench to Tobias only to be berated.

Young fellow, I've spent days sleeping in places so bad it would make this seem like the queen's bed chamber. One time, had to sleep for three days wedged in a crevice covered with thorn bushes—three days! Had nothin' but water and a handful of nuts with me and couldn't make a sound for fear there'd be a bandit patrol nearby. Tobias shook his head. Sittin' on a nice warm hearth won't bother me.

Darstan elbowed Rahg and smiled. He didn't dare laugh.

Kor Trasken started out the talks, explaining his strategy for defense of the town if it came to that. Rahg didn't understand anything of what he said and soon found himself dreaming of Kanella and planning his own strategy—how to ask her father if he could walk with her.

Darstan jabbed him again. Pay attention.

Rahg snapped alert just as Tobias began to speak.

We have to assume this is a raiding party. A small group we can take care of, even several patrols, but if they've got a big force with rock dragons, we'll need help. We need to split up into patrols and find them.

Rahg drifted off again, dreaming of Kanella. He couldn't help it, despite the seriousness of the matter at hand.

Magmar, we'll take Rahg and Darstan with us. Tobias raised his voice. "We'll leave at first-light. If Rahg is still with us, that is."

Rahg snapped to attention. He had only caught bits and pieces of the conversation. Darstan can tell me the rest tonight.

Rahg lay wide awake in bed, eyes refusing to close. You still awake, Dar?

Darstan rolled to his side. Hard to sleep thinking about Victas. Seems as if everything changed in two days.

I've been thinking about that wolf ever since the traveler came. I'll bet it was one of those Wolfen the traveler talked about.

He said the Wolfen were in Nyauran, not Kamnor, but I don't know, Rahg. I don't know about anything anymore.

What if we have to fight them? Rahg stared out the window at the trees swaying to the night breeze. Too many shadows kept his fear alive.

We'll do what we can if it comes to that.

How are you going to fight lizards? You're scared to death of little snakes, let alone lizards as big as men.

Snakes and lizards aren't the same. If they were snake-people, I'd be more scared. Darstan rested his head on both of his hands as he stared at the blank ceiling. This is all like a dream, Rahg, it'll go away.

I'm scared, Rahg said. I wish it was just a dream.

Me too, Rahg. Me too.

Darstan stared at the ceiling, listening to Rahg toss in his bed. His stomach churned, roiled with something . . . bad. The feeling seemed familiar, almost like the uneasiness he got as a child after he had done something wrong, but he was doing nothing wrong now. He placed both hands over his stomach, then closed his eyes again and tried to think about good things, about anything to get his mind off of this. . . . whatever it was.

The First Patrol

Rahg rose before the morning, worries from the night before tucked away in the recesses of his mind. He heated the water for khaffe and had eggs cooking when Darstan and Magmar entered. Rahg whistled as he placed mugs of khaffe on the table. 

You’re up early, Darstan said.

I was up before the birds. Ready to go on patrol.

Better set another place, son. I invited Tobias to break fast with us. Magmar peered out the window. Looks like he’s coming now.

A horse neighed, then footsteps sounded on the porch before the door opened with a jerk.

Hope you lads cracked an egg or two for me. Tobias laughed as he pulled up a stout oak chair and removed his hat.

Don’t forget that hat when we leave, Tobias. You don’t want your head to burn. 

I may not have much hair, lad, but at least I’ve got my head. I think you lost yours yesterday dreaming of Kanella.

Magmar laughed as he scraped the serving plate of the few potatoes that remained, then scooped up his eggs with the bread. He nodded at Darstan, still with a half a plate full. Eat up, Darstan. I need to pack the food, and you boys need to help Tobias.

Tobias gulped down the last of his meal, then stood. Rahg, help me get the horses ready. Darstan, feed the animals.

Soon, they had the kitchen cleaned, and the horses packed. I see you lads wore your long sleeves and wool cloaks. Good thing. It’ll get cold once we leave the valley. Tobias climbed in the saddle and tugged on the reins of his horse. Let’s go, lads. Got a lot of riding to do today.

Half an hour later they were riding on a knoll sprinkled with maples and emeralds. Rahg spotted Tomas and Eru tending sheep in the valley. He felt sure they had scowls painted on their faces after being forced to stay home. 

Too young, Kor had said. 

Rahg gave a shrill whistle to grab their attention. They signaled back with a sluggish wave. Rahg couldn’t blame them. Even though fear had tightened his throat, the journey promised excitement.

By late morning they reached the upper rim of the valley, the foothills of the Rainbow Mountains and front door to the Great Whites. The mountains were harsh, untamed, and densely wooded. This was home to the gray wolf and mountain cat, and other things that people only whispered of. Rahg checked his sword and knife. Did you check everything, Darstan?

[ Image: mountain foothills to white.jpg ]

mountains, foothills to the whites

I packed twenty-five arrows each. Darstan sat tall on his mount, black hair glistening in the morning sun. Even as bad as you shoot, that’s enough for you to hit four or five Victas.

If we didn’t need these arrows, I’d challenge you right now.

Tobias prodded his mount as they climbed to the first plateau where a break in the tree line opened a view to the ridge. There’s Kor Trasken and his patrol.

Darstan spun in his saddle, squinting at four men on horseback far across the ridge. You’ve got keen eyes, Tobias.

Of course I got keen eyes. That’s what smokin’ a pipe’ll do for you.

What does smoking a pipe have to do with good eyes?

Tobias shifted in his saddle and stared at Darstan. When you’ve smoked a pipe as long as I have, we can continue this discussion. Until then, you’ll have to take my word for it.

Where’s Kanella? Rahg asked. Who’s with her?

Not to worry, lad. She’s at Havril’s helping the other women with the children, but we left a score of armed men to guard them. Tobias fought back a smile. Though with old Mrs. Ardanta, I don’t think they’ll need any protection.

Rahg relaxed. Twenty men with bows and swords could stand against a large force. No Victa patrol, not even a raiding party, could pose a threat to so many, not with the town offering such a solid defensive position.

You know, lad, that Trasken girl handles a sword like a soldier. Saw her practicing with Kor one day. She’s a good match for most men. If you two do wed, you better be watchin’ yourself. 

Real funny, Tobias.

Valley Falls, Magmar said. He reined in the horse but remained mounted. Pretty sight, isn’t it?

[ Image: mountain waterfall wide.jpg ]

valley falls

The roar of the falls rose toward Rahg with the spray of mist, falling just short of where they stood on the ledge. The breeze rushing up felt cool. Rahg breathed deep, filling his lungs with mountain air. The smell of pines proved stronger here, perhaps because of the falls, and he could almost taste the berries that hid in little copses where the ground flattened out. 

Let’s go, Tobias said. Can’t afford to linger. Have a lot of ground to cover before nightfall. 

Rahg almost fell from his saddle. Nightfall! I thought this was a one day patrol.

The others will be back before the moons stand tall, but we volunteered for the longest patrol. We’ll be traveling to the gorge at Rainbow Falls then circle back by the high bridge. Thought you lads knew. We didn’t pack that much food just to feed Rahg.

The trail steepened as they began the ascent and, as the day wore on, the emeralds and oaks disappeared, ceding to squatty pines and scrub brush that clung to rocks like a possum to tree bark. The distinctive croak of a raven brought Rahg’s eyes to the sky where two of them romped on the wind, chasing each other like puppies. Rahg took a huge breath of crisp air to calm himself, but he couldn’t shake the fear. 

He tugged at his cloak, wrapping it around him to keep out the chill, a harsh reminder that winter had not relinquished its hold in the mountains. When the sun disappeared over the ridge, Rahg shivered, and he could not attribute it to the cold. He huddled to his mount to draw warmth, hoping to ease the trembling. 

Pay attention, Rahg. The darkness conceals danger. 

Magmar’s words fed the flames. Rahg found the courage to straighten, though it didn’t help. Nerves jerked his head from side to side, seeking enemies, and all the while he prayed he found none. 

We’re almost there, Magmar said. Won’t be long.

No, not long, Tobias added.

Rahg’s shock formed the questions. Where? Almost where?

There’s a big cavern a short distance away that has water, Tobias said. That’s where we’ll spend the night. 

Rahg got more comfortable as they neared the destination. He felt warmer, too, and though the wind increased and the temperature dropped, he no longer shivered. Rahg looked up to Ranal and Ranalla, thankful for the reunion as their bright glow rippled moonlight across the midnight–blue sky and sprinkled it over the forest.

Tobias dismounted and led his horse down a path shadowed in darkness, then signaled for them to follow. Rahg went first. Darstan fell in behind Rahg, and Magmar brought-up the rear. By the time they caught up to Tobias, the trail had grown painfully narrow. A tree branch whipped back and caught Rahg’s face, stinging like a whip. 

Careful, barked Tobias, an unusual sternness in his voice. Don’t break ‘em. Don’t want to leave any signs. 

They’ll be leaving signs on my face, Rahg thought. He looked back at Magmar, covering their tracks. Another branch slapped his face. God’s sake!

Quiet, lad. Watch where you’re going and you won’t get hit. Anyway, not much further now.

They twisted along several more trails, each more narrow than the previous one. A short while later Tobias took a tortuous path that led to higher elevations. Rahg fought with his mount, tugging on the reins while leaning forward to keep from falling. Tobias pulled aside a bush and exposed an entrance to a large cave. 

Calm the horses as you come through. These branches have thorns on them. Hurry, lad. Can’t hold this all night. 

Hold it until I get past. 

Once inside the cavern, Rahg struck a torch. This is huge! Rahg said. Darstan, can you believe this has been here all this time and we never knew? We’ll have to bring Eru and Tomas up here.

[ Image: cave entrance.jpeg ]

cave entrance

They’ll never believe us if we don’t show them, Darstan said. He sniffed the damp, stale air of the cave while he searched the depths. I think half of Twin Forks could fit in here.

Magmar lit another torch and wedged it between two rocks near the center of the cave. Darstan, you and Rahg take care of the horses. Make sure they’re fed and watered, then make bedrolls and light another torch. Tobias and I will gather firewood. 

Yes, Sir, Rahg snapped, pounding his fist to chest three times in the manner of a Sykoran soldier. He and Darstan both laughed.

Enough! Tobias almost leapt on top of them. He was only a breath away, and his words were sharp. Not at all like the Tobias they knew. 

"I’ve seen Victa tracks for the last half a league or more. It looks like a small patrol, maybe five or six, but